


Lapse

by heartsflush



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6489667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsflush/pseuds/heartsflush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are better left unsaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lapse

**Author's Note:**

> heyo its casey back at it again with the ghiralink
> 
> this is a style i've never really done before so i hope ur ready. i had this idea when i was in class daydreaming lmao. also it's partially inspired by one of my favorite debussy quotes: "Music is the silence between the notes." (not really a musical fic but you get the idea)
> 
> as always, leave kudos if you like it, and comment with anything i can improve on! thanks!

Sometimes the strongest emotions are present without words to accompany them.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

The sound of metal upon metal rang out from the center of the domed room. An onlooker would see no distinct forms, simply blurs of green or white. Animatedly, the demon and the destined hero slashed and swiped at each other, skill almost equal. Tension so thick it could be cut by one of the swords they wielded, at every spare moment, they spared a heated glare at the other.

There was still animosity, despite all that had happened.

Suddenly, the demon found himself back to the ground, a blade at his throat. His adversary stood above him, panting heavily. He looked into the hero’s eyes, met with a look of determination and strength. He sighed to himself. He had seen the transformation of the warrior in front of him from a boy into a true hero, and had been partially responsible for enforcing that burden upon him, but it had seemed like just yesterday he was facing off against an inexperienced child in Skyview Temple.

The demon sighed and closed his eyes, nodding in defeat. A moment later, the blade was removed, replaced by an extended hand and a pitying glance. With any other enemy, Ghirahim would have stayed on the ground in pride.

He couldn’t place why he reached for that hand now.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

It took a while to get used to each other’s presence. Ghirahim was prepared for the citizens' fear; he knew the people of the town would be put off by his sudden presence in their lives. What he wasn’t prepared for was Link’s readiness to work with him.

The hero had put Ghirahim under house arrest, for all intents and purposes. He was free to move about the small house that Link had come into possession of on the Surface, but if he wanted to go out, he needed to be accompanied. Ghirahim didn’t mind; it wasn’t like he had anything to do in town.

The demon was wary of the hero’s kindness. Link had no reason to sympathize with him; in fact, he had all the opposite reasons. After a while of the question biting at him, Ghirahim finally asked him why.

The silence that followed was the type that floated gently in the air; present, but not protruding. Calm, but not uneventful. The blue eyes that met the demon’s held a lifetime of hardships and suffering unfit for one so young. Despite that, they still held a capacity to sympathize. To empathize.

The silence was there, but the message went through.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Lighthearted moments didn’t come often for the odd pair. They both had more than their fair share of grievances with the world, so every flash of a smile or hint of joy was taken gratefully.

It was made even more special when Ghirahim first heard Link’s laugh.

The circumstances that the sound arrived under were blurred in the demon’s mind. Ghirahim was telling the hero of some story or another from his days before the war. The tale must have been more embarrassing than the demon remembered, because he spoke a single sentence and the next moment, Link was off, shoulders bouncing and eyes shut tight.

The hero’s laughter bounced gently like bubbles; it pealed lightly, not too low, not too high. It seemed to Ghirahim that Link’s laughter could bring about peace in anyone, even a blade whose personality was cast aside for practicality. He had never had such a feeling evoked by something as simple as laughter. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the peace that had settled between them.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Pain is not something that fades easily.

Often, Ghirahim would reflect back on his life in the service of Demise. It had been rough, to say the least, and he was almost glad to be out of his obligation, but his adventures and actions were never something that debilitated him with guilt or fear. The hero could not say the same. Almost every night, about an hour after he had drifted into sleep’s deceptively gentle clutches, Link would be thrust from them in fear, drenched in cold sweat. Usually, he was alone, and would fall back onto the pillow and try to reassure himself that it was over. Usually, it worked.

One particular night, Ghirahim happened to be walking past the open door of the room. Link’s trauma was in full view and stopped him from progressing any further down the hallway. Normally, Ghirahim would have walked away after giving him a questioning look, but Link’s eyes stopped him. Normally bright and happy, they now stared at him with a gaze of intense fear and sadness. Ghirahim couldn’t tear his own eyes away.

He wasn’t usually one to pity.

He was now.

Wordlessly, he cautiously stepped into the room, shut the door behind him, and sat on the bed. Immediately, he was met with a cacophony of sobs, and he said nothing as the one he had once seen as stronger than the steel of his blade collapse into the vulnerability he had long been denied. Guilt encompassed Ghirahim as he realized that he was probably the reason for a majority of Link’s nightmares. As Link’s tears diminished, a white-gloved hand reached up to gently stroke the back of his neck.

Perhaps this could be considered some kind of atonement.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

It wasn’t clear to either of them when they had become as close as they had, but neither of them minded. Often, they could be seen walking around town together, and their conversations had shifted from tense to lighthearted. Groose would poke fun at the two and their inseparability, always met with blushes and glares. In reality, however, they couldn’t put their finger on it, but something had changed.

Their closeness culminated into a single moment. Link was talking about some encounter with a townsperson and misspoke, confusing the term with which he referred to the demon. In a moment, they fell silent, simply looking at each other. The hero, now embarrassed, tried to mumble out an apology, but Ghirahim’s gaze silenced him.

He didn’t look at Link with malice or discontent. Rather, it was a sort of confused enlightenment. In the silence, Link understood what Ghirahim’s eyes were asking him, and tried his best to give an answer.

The speed with which Ghirahim smiled (genuinely smiled) and took Link into his arms let the hero know that his message had been received.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

They rarely found themselves contemplating how they fell in love. On the occasion that they did, they blew it out of proportion for any listeners, always involving a swoon and at least six admittances of “I really, truly love you” for entertainment value. Once, they were alone, and they came to the same realization individually.

Together, they had lived their lives in shared silences, and it was those lapses of words that brought them together.


End file.
